


not getting your way is rough

by orphan_account



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Cuntboy, Genital Torture, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Murder, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 15:04:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18527503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: adachi is sick and souji is breakable





	not getting your way is rough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



He was too loud. Too squirmy. He never listened. Souji never learned his lesson. _Never_ learned to be quiet. Too combative. Liked to fight back until he got hit. Hard. If I listened close enough, I could hear his brain knock against his skull. Like a toddler falling on the kitchen floor.

I kept him like an unwanted animal. Locked in a hallway closet. The more he misbehaved, the more I took away. The harder I punished him. The harder I smacked him for talking back. The longer I choked him, the harder I pushed down. Souji's throat was lined with gorgeous dark bruises. A perfect circle.

Souji pushed himself against the wall when I turned on the light. Scrunched himself under the lowest shelf. I was surprised he could fit.

_Dirty._

_Breakable_.

_A filthy whore that lived in my closet._

The carpet was disgusting. It reeked of urine. Stained with blood and discolored vomit. Souji laid in it. The cramped space. I would catch him staring at the ceiling like he was waiting for something to happen. For me to let him out. Or for the wall to collapse.

He was beautiful, in his own way. I can see the beauty in a defiled body. The broken spirit of a once gleaming kid. I took his life away from him. The little happiness he had. The little joy he found in his lonely life. If I had any say, I am doing him a favor. Anyone who cared for him a favor. One chore they can check off their list. One last thing to check on.

He was young. His life was privileged and lavish. Everything but affection was served to him on a silver platter. He didn't know about the real world. About the scary people that existed. He was so sheltered.

Like a good dog, Souji came when I called him. He sat in front of me. His expression was blank, waiting for a command. Like he was braindead on his own. Unable to make a move without being told.

It was easy to tangle my fingers in his hair. Pushed his head against the ground. Adding more pressure than was necessary. It wasn't enough until it felt like it was going to crack.

"Adachi-san," his sob was weak, his voice quiet, "Please, stop." his plea was pathetic, "I'm scared."

I didn't feel pity for the kid. I only felt pity for myself in this situation. I was the one in pain.

I hardly responded. I didn't give Souji the privilege of conversation, "What do I keep telling you?"

His body was small. The t-shirt covered too much when there wasn't much to see to begin with. Only for me to indulge in. His chest that concaved. I could see his ribcage when he took a deep breath. A scar above his nipple that never healed correctly. A nasty infection. Too deep of a cut. It was red and irritated. Unclean. His vagina is torn and used. Marked as impure.

Running a box cutter against his clit. The dull end, at first. The cold metal poking against the pink flesh. I _never_ cut too deep down here. _Never_ enough to rip his skin.

I traced the blade around the outside of his spread entrance. His look was filled with fear. Like he knew my intention. Maybe he wasn't as braindead as I thought. The way he jolted away, kicking at my chest.

"No," he repeated, "Adachi-san, I'm sorry."

_Was that all he could say? All this kid knew how to do was apologize._

The satisfying scream that came from cutting into his plush flesh was enough to set someone like me over the edge. Driving the knife deeper into his bloodied vagina. The blade extended, hit against his insides. It made him wriggle in discomfort. Fighting like a cat you held under the water for a minute too long.

I could see his jaw clench. His hand ball into a fist, trying to grab something to squeeze. Something to punch. It was cute. His pain was adorable. It brought out the most beautiful thing about a person.

"Pretty angel," he did look like an angel. I only drove the blade deeper into his torn cunt, ripping a straight line as I pulled it out. His eyeballs rolled back. He looked like he was about to go into shock. "Just like that. What a beautiful boy." I wish I could preserve this state forever. The way his expression sank.

The blood pooled underneath his body. Dripping like a leaking hose from his vagina. Worse than a period. Worse than any bleeding I could cause by penetration.

It felt better to sink my dick in something bloody. He wasn't tight anymore. Loose, like a discounted prostitute. Like something no one enjoyed anymore. Just a hole to fuck. Something to cum into. He couldn't clutch around my dick anymore. Not even when I shoved it into his womb.

I wasn't careful with my movement, I never was. I pushed Souji's legs too far against his chest. His body folded in half and his head was tilted back. I couldn't see his expression this time. But I could hear his fear. His sweet fear. The way his voice shook when he screamed as I pushed my dick too deep for comfort. His stomach was so tiny, he bulged. It was like Souji was impaled.

His vagina was soaked in blood. It sounded wet, each time I slammed against him. Each time he screamed in pain. Like he was being murdered. The scream could shatter glass. High pitched and painful. Just for that, his head was slammed against the ground. Over and over. Over and over. Like my movement was a broken record, skipping over the worst track. Until Souji coughed until I could tell he didn't know where he was. I couldn't stop.

His vomit was bloody. Bloody and stringy. colored brown. Chunky. Like the can of unwarmed beef I fed him. It came draining out. Choking on it as it slowly dripped from the side of his torn lip. Forced to swallow back the rest. A disgusting smell. Fresh, bloody vomit.

"How do you spell my name, Souji-chan?" It was a simple question. I liked indulging him in a fun game. A fun game that only I benefited from, "One letter at a time."

"A," I was surprised he could speak. That he could remember how to spell.

The blade was driven into his chest, deep enough to leave a permanent scar. Like a doctor performing surgery on an unlucky patient. Leaving behind an "A", just like Souji said. What a smart boy.

"D," another letter carved. Deeper than the last. Making Souji squirm more. Like he did when I tickled underneath his armpit. The way he laughed was drilled into my memory. Never to be heard again.

"A," a repeat this time. Lowercase and smaller than the first. I had to be careful with the way I curved the blade. The way Souji kicked his foot out told me it was _too sharp, too painful_. His toes curled in agony.

"C," he was begging at this point for the spelling game to be over. Like being embarrassed in front of a crowd when you forgot how to spell something so _impossibly_ simple _._

"H," this one had only one curve and a _painful_ straight line. I swore I punctured something when I pressed in too deep.

"Stop it, Adachi-san. Stop it. I love you. I love you a lot." oh, he was _so_ cute. I wanted to eat him up, swallow him whole. Like a piece of stale candy from the bottom of an old forgotten Halloween sack. If I could preserve this innocence and plea forever, trust me, _I would_. but things aren't that easy. Innocence doesn't last forever. The kid couldn't go through life getting the easy ticket out. No one could. It was unrealistic. And I believed this pained me, somewhere, more than it pained him.

To see his face darken. His pale cheeks streaked with tears. His hair soaked in sweat from the past week. Greasy and disgusting. He was losing it, this time. His body was tired and he couldn't keep up with the constant abuse.

How _pathetic_ was that? To be thrown out like a used sex toy. A broken fleshlight that was left uncleaned and shoved under a bed. Never to be touched again.

"C'mon, what is the last letter, Souji-chan? You're a smart boy, I know you can get it."

"...I," his breathing was ragged. Not the type of ragged from crying too hard. Or running when you're out of shape. But the sound that came out of someone struggling to stay alive. The sound of someone dying in a bed, isolated in a hospital room. Away from their family. Anyone who gave a _single_ shit about them.

That was the nail in the coffin. The deep push of the blade. Stabbed through flesh. Too deep to recover from. Bleeding out from his stomach. At least Souji died silently. Not much struggle after the third letter. Just beautiful submission.

_Finally knowing what it's like to not get his way._

**Author's Note:**

> i love writing adachi in first person... nasty poetic bastard... took a swing at writing gross detailed gore for my girlfriend and it turned out gud


End file.
